


unstoppable force, meet immovable object

by rottencloset



Series: bottom damian wayne week 2020 [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), BDWW 2020, BDWW2020, Bondage, Bottom Damian Wayne Week, Damian Wayne is a Brat, Discipline, Dom Jonathan Kent, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Gags, Light BDSM, M/M, Nipple Play, Nipple Torture, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Piercings, Sub Damian Wayne, good gentle dom jon.. loves his stupid city boy, intercural sex, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottencloset/pseuds/rottencloset
Summary: Their evening is relaxed. Jon is reading, and Damian is tied up. Everything is good.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne
Series: bottom damian wayne week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994908
Comments: 6
Kudos: 134
Collections: BottomDamianWayneWeek2020





	unstoppable force, meet immovable object

**Author's Note:**

> Size Kink / Wearing Someone Else’s Clothes / ~~Jealousy / Enemies to Lovers~~
> 
> fifth full for bottom damian week! this one is a wip i dusted off and edited a bit so it sort of maybe kinda fits but that’s the way the cookie crumbles. sort of could be enemies to lovers bc duh, jondami 
> 
> CW://  
> Prolonged BDSM scene  
> Lashing out / bratting (D says ‘I hate you’)  
> Sadistic sunshine man Jon Kent  
> Copious amounts of fluff (?)  
> No anal sex for our boi sorry
> 
> enjoy mon chéris

“I’m going to kill you,” Damian snarls, and Jon doesn’t even look up from his book. “Sure, sweetheart,” he says almost absentmindedly, and licks his thumb, using the wetness to stick his finger to the paper to flip to the next page. 

It’s only there for a half a second, but the glimpse of that pink tongue has Damian tensing his thighs and squirming in an effort to get any friction on his aching dick, literally anything at all. His shifting makes the thin gold chain that connects his nipple piercings pull taut and upwards towards the hook on the ceiling that it’s threaded through, making him bite back a frustrated shriek at the sensation. Despite his sweet-as-apple-pie appearance and rural farm boy charm, Jon truly was a bastard- specifically, in this case, because he put the connector up where only he could reach with his stupid fucking alien powers. The corner of his lover’s lip twitches the slightest bit in amusement at the sound he swallows, and Damian curses his superhearing for what seems like the millionth time that day. 

His chest aches at the sensation of his sensitive nipples being pulled farther away from his body, but he knows if he scooches forwards to ease the pressure there’ll just be more wait time until he finally gets to orgasm. Jon would just parrot, “Actions have consequences, D,” and probably fist himself to completion in front of him like the jerk he was. The thought of the Kryptonian being able to so casually orgasm while Damian was continuously deprived makes his anger reach a boiling point, and he snaps. 

He’s too caught up in his frustration to think clearly, and this is makes him blurt out the very first thing that comes to mind. “Let me cum, you goddamn son of a bitch-”

By the time the vigilante realizes his mistake it’s too late. Across the room, Jon takes off his reading glasses and calmly folds them up, setting them off to the side and pierces him with one look from his unnaturally bright blue eyes. 

“Damian,” he says, tone carefully measured, “you know what you have to do to cum already.” 

He does, and he hates it, and he’s so pent up he could cry; so he does what he always does and digs his own hole even deeper into the ground. “I hate you,” Damian hisses, “-I hate you I hate you  _ I hate you.”  _

In between one blink and the next, the Super materializes in front of him, large hand grasping his chin and jerking it forward. His deceptively gentle hands, unmarred by scars or callouses (and powerful enough to crush almost anything in a millisecond) squish his cheeks together, making his lips pout out. Damian is pinned in place, a butterfly caught in the hand of a predator and cupped carefully like he isn’t inches away from death. “If you can’t say anything nice, Damian, then you don’t get to say anything at all.” The steel hand moves up to the joint of his jaw and presses downward, forcing his mouth to part open for whatever Jon has decided to gag him with. 

The taller man pops open the remaining buttons on Damian’s dress shirt and removes it with firm, sure movements, stripping him of the last full barrier that blocked his extremities from public view. He’s just in his boxers now, and he defiantly meets Jon’s gaze like he almost isn’t entirely bare. Maintaining eye contact, he rolls the shirt up to form a gag, tucks it beneath the arm holding the aforementioned’s mouth open and grabs Damian’s previously discarded silk tie. 

His face is carefully blank as he brings it up towards the other’s face, and despite the low growl that rumbles from his disgruntled partner’s ribcage he stuffs it into his forcefully parted wet and drooling mouth, only stopping to rub at the cushion of one of his swollen red lips with a thumb. Jon feeds it in bit by bit with his thick fingers, uncaring of how they grow damp with spit and watches as both ends up the tie slowly climb up to brush up against Damian’s chin as he pushes it into his warm mouth. When he’s satisfied with how much fabric is wadded within, the shirt is taken from where it was cradled in the tuck of his elbow and placed it over the now bulging cheeks, wrapping around his face horizontally so it stops Damian from spitting the gag out. 

Beautiful. 

Keeping his hand around one end of the makeshift reins, he ducks under his partner to reach his back and drapes himself over his lover. The reins are held one loose hand instead of a firm grip because they both know that Jon could overpower him as easily as blinking. “There we go,” he murmurs, “that’s better. No more mean,” He leans inward towards Damian, plastering himself against him and breathes against his ear, “cruel,” his tongue delicately traces the outside shell, dipping in and then, “untrue-” withdrawing outward to nip at the sensitive skin right beneath the earlobe, “-words. Isn’t that right, D?” 

All he gets in reply is the angry narrowing of lazarus green eyes, but he grins right back. 

Pushing his hips forward, he grinds his bulge into the crevice of Damian’s lovely ass and groans, hot and heavy against his ear. He tugs at the shirt, and his beloved’s head is pulled along with it because it’s snug between his lips like a bit, and shit, isn’t that hot? It’s already wet with drool and sweat, and that alone makes his cock fill out and swell even more despite the two tight cheeks it’s sandwiched between. “Mhm,” he moans, and uses his free hand to trace down the other’s sweaty back until he reaches the two slight dips of Venus and slots his thumb into a groove. It’s a perfect fit, and his hand his so large compared to Damian’s tiny waist he nearly cums on the spot. 

The barest remains of dark, hand shaped bruises shadow beneath his palm, and when he presses his hand more firmly into one of the imprints on the lithe hip below him he gets a quiet groan. They must still be pretty sensitive, then. 

He licks his lips and settles back, grasping the base of his fat prick to lead it to the tight whorl of Damian’s asshole and rubs himself there. It catches along the rim when he cants his hips forward a little bit more, and he reaches downward from the indents on Damian’s back to grab a handful of his plush ass and pulling it away to watch the head dampen the pretty pink rim with his precum. 

“Do you want it?” He asks, and begins to frot back and forth in the crevice. Damian doesn’t respond. 

(Obviously, because he can’t, but Jon is the kind of asshole that sort of wants to punish him for it anyways. It’s not like there weren’t any other ways to communicate other than verbally, right? But after a moment of contemplation he throws the thought away. His dick has been rock hard for over half an hour and he really wants to cum.) 

His beloved squirms minutely, trying to glare at him over his shoulder, but Jon simply smushes his face against his so they’re cheek to cheek so he physically can’t. There’s a quiet, muffled compliant from behind the gag, and the Kryptonian holds back a smile. 

Wordlessly he pulls him flush to his own taller and bigger body, and the thin chain connected to his piercings becomes even tauter than before. The nipples are straining at the pressure- if he squints he can even see how the skin around the metal begins to turn red with irritation, and if Jon wasn’t so content with his current position he would be lapping and licking at them, feeling their hotness against his tongue.

“No?” Jon chuckles, and presses a kiss against his elegant cheekbone. “Alright then. That’s fine with me, sweetheart.” 

Leaning behind him, he grabs a crystal container of a cardamom and honey oil and pours some into the palm of his hand, then sets it down. He spreads Damian’s legs wide, hitching it up, and evenly coats the insides of his sensitive thighs, making sure to rub and massage at them slowly before he trails his hand up his torso and to his poor tortured nipples, smearing the excess on the red skin. His lover shivers, but otherwise remains silent; whether it’s because he’s being good or being a brat, Jon doesn’t care. 

His aching prick goes right between those delicious thighs and is enveloped in their silky warmth when he reaches down and sandwiches them together tightly. It makes a perfect little fuckhole, soft and welcome and quite literally dripping with slick; it’s heavenly. 

Panting, Jon draws his hips back so that his cock slides all the way out, and then with one forceful, hard thrust fucks himself all the way back in. The head of his swollen dick drags against Damian’s balls and the bottom of his own sensitive prick, leaving a sticky path of precum in its wake that in any other circumstance he would immediately drop down onto his knees to lick up.

But there are much,  _ much  _ better things to be done. 

Minutes hazily pass as Damian’s lithe thighs are fucked, the only sound in the room the wet sound of their hips slapping together and the obscene squelching noises that occur reach time he thrusts himself balls deep into that little nook. It’s silent, it’s  _ perfect,  _ and Jon cums with a groan as he throws his head back. 

Ribbons of cum shoot out onto the floor as his cock pulses out the last of his orgasm from between his lover’s legs, and he withdraws with a dirty  _ shlick _ from the mess he made of Damian’s tender thighs. His green eyes are watering, but he’s still determinedly silent, even as he shakes in his bonds and as his tits are further pulled, and Jon smiles. 

“It seems I haven’t broken you yet, have I,” He asks, and tweaks at one swollen red bud. Jon ducks around Damian so that he’s pressed up against his front, and dares to graze his teeth against the other neglected nipple. A laugh bursts from him at the high-pitched, affronted bark he gets in return. “Good thing we have more time, D,” he murmurs against his skin, lips just barely grazing against the irritated flesh, and lets his eyes lid slowly. 

Jon dances away from Damian, yanking on the chain one last time before he goes back to his chair and opens his book. He ignores the faint, quiet whine that pulls from him and sits back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other and smiling as he slips on his reading glasses. 

“In fact, we have  _ all night.”  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hmu on my twit for more nasty stuff (https://mobile.twitter.com/rottencloset)
> 
> (seductively does the macarana) if you enjoyed... or perhaps maybe if you did not...... send a comment to water my crops? (wiggles eyebrow with rose clenched between teeth)


End file.
